


Fulfilling Destiny

by ificouldwrite



Series: Merlin's Finale - A Rewrite [2]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Caring Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, M/M, this made me tear up with how much i want this :')
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-24
Updated: 2020-09-24
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:20:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26625082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ificouldwrite/pseuds/ificouldwrite
Summary: hello again! this is the sequel toOnly for you, Arthur. I use it only for you.It's the aftermath of Merlin coming back from the dead, and his and Arthur's relationship as they finally, finally live together in peace.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Series: Merlin's Finale - A Rewrite [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1936918
Comments: 8
Kudos: 155





	Fulfilling Destiny

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i'm so sorry for posting this so late, it's been a rough couple weeks but i finally got it done! 
> 
> thank you so much for reading this, i really appreciate all the love from the last part and my heart is happy :D
> 
> please leave comments if you'd like, i love reading them and you all are so wonderful!

Their tearful, joyous reunion is short lived. They had embraced, they had kissed with a desperation that only dying men kissed with, but when they begin to ready their things for the way back, the tone shifts entirely. Merlin is quiet for the journey back to Camelot, but Arthur doesn't want to press him for answers. They'll be time, he tells himself. They have time, now. 

Merlin insists he dismounts the horse as soon as they reach the cobblestones that lead up to the archway. Up until then, he'd ridden behind Arthur, but now he walks by his side on the ground. This is the first thing that clues Arthur into seeing that there is something deeper than the shock of coming back from the dead. 

"You should go check in with Gaius," Arthur says, though he's terrified to let Merlin out of his sight, he knows that Merlin will need time to recover. "You've had quite an ordeal." 

Merlin nods curtly, bowing his head. _Like a servant_ , Arthur thinks to himself. Merlin sets off to the physician's chambers before Arthur can say anything more. 

— — — — 

"I have your favourite meal," are Gaius' first words to Merlin. They embrace for a long while. Gaius' tears are streaming down his face, and Merlin's in a state of constant shock. It feels as though only days have passed since he'd died in that field, nearly at the coast of Avalon. It feels like only days since he's seen his mentor. 

Gaius tells him it's been so, so long. 

He explains everything that happened in the time that Merlin has been at rest, and Merlin is dumbstruck by the fact that magic is no longer outlawed in Camelot and that Albion has been united in his absence. Gaius lets his ward sit with this information, until Merlin dares to speak. "You told me, before, that Mordred... Mordred was still Arthur's bane. How is that possible, if he was dead?"

Gaius manages a small, sad smile. "I believe that in killing you, it was destroying Arthur in turn. The other half dies when one side is killed." 

Merlin blinks at this, thinking. "But he prevailed. He did everything the prophecy said he would."

"He did," the old physician says. "In your name." Merlin breathes out a sigh of disbelief, and breaks out into a relieved smile. 

"The prophecy has been fulfilled," Merlin says softly. "I'm free." Gaius pats his knee with a smile, fond and sympathetic for the boy he'd lost so long ago. 

"Eat your supper," he says gently, standing as Merlin turns to the plate of food waiting for him. 

— — — —

Gwen is just as tearful, if not moreso. She tells him she's proud, and apologizes for all the things he's gone through. After the tears have been shed and the initial shock has passed, she tells him that Arthur and her annulled their marriage. It's a sudden announcement, but Merlin somehow sees it coming. Still, he's wrong-footed by this information. 

"But don't you love him?" Merlin asks, skeptically. 

"I do," she says, "but not as much as I loved Lancelot. Not as much as Arthur loves you, or you love him." 

Merlin seems taken aback by this, flinching at the words. "You're meant to be queen," he says. 

"And I was, and while it was nice I didn't... enjoy it quite as much as I would like to think." She sighs heavily. "I miss the market, I miss the life outside of a castle. I still hold a strong position at the court, but it feels lighter, somehow. There's no great burden of being a wife to a man I don't love nearly enough." 

Merlin nods at this, and looks at Gwen. "Gaius told me ten years have passed," he says. "How come you've kept your youth so in tact?" 

Gwen laughs, rolling her eyes. "Your magic has kept us young, Merlin, waiting for the day you would come again, including your mother. We couldn't have you facing old men and women, could we?" she teases, nudging him. Merlin laughs. "It's good to have you back, though. I have missed you... with all my heart. It hurt to lose such a dear friend." 

"I'm sorry to have been gone for so long, but I'm glad to be back," he replies, mustering a grin. He stands, his throat tight with emotion. She follows suit before seemingly remembering something. 

"Wait! I've got something for you," she says, going to her wardrobe. She sifts through to find a box and presents it to him. "I had it made for you, after..." Her voice trails off. Merlin nods and hesitantly takes the box, feeling all too flustered. Inside, there is a hat, deep purple with silver stars and a crescent moon stitched artfully onto it by careful hands. 

"It's beautiful, Gwen," he says. "Thank you." He holds the box with the hat inside of it, cradling it to him like a precious thing. 

She smiles, bright and proud with shining eyes. "Remember, Merlin? Purple suits you." 

— — — —

The knights welcome him with open arms. Percival, quiet as always, wraps him in a hug and ruffles his hair. Gwaine doesn't seem to want to let him go but reluctantly does so when Leon holds out his hand for a shake, then pulls Merlin into a hug as well. He's recovered well from the torture he suffered at Morgana's hands, smiling just as brightly as he always had but there's guilt lurking beneath his grin. Merlin knows how he blames himself for his death, for telling Morgana where they were off to. But he gives Gwaine a look, telling him that there is nothing to be guilty for. 

The knights thank Merlin for his servitude to the kingdom, for everything that he's done in the name of Camelot. They give him a cape with the seal of Camelot in golden thread, the fabric a vibrant Pendragon red, long and flowing just like theirs, brand new and beautiful. Merlin looks at it with a wonder, and takes it back to his chambers and sets it carefully at his desk where nothing can touch it. It sits beside the hat Gwen had commissioned for him. 

It takes him a long while to finally face Arthur again, but he brings Arthur dinner in the evening. The king is in his chambers, staring out the window where his gaze rests on the courtyard below. Merlin carefully sets out the platters on the table and Arthur has yet to stir. 

After shuffling about and tidying things in the silence, Arthur says, "I thought you'd run away." There's no heat in his words, only despair and sorrow. 

"I wouldn't leave you, sire." Merlin stands at the door, hands clasped behind his back. "Not by choice." Arthur turns at this, eyes full of tears. 

"But you have been avoiding me," he states. Merlin doesn't deny it, and Arthur gets his answer. "Why?"

"I just thought you needed some time," Merlin says carefully. "People do things they regret in their grief." 

"What do you mean?" Arthur presses, narrowing his eyes. "What could I possibly regret?" 

Merlin's been dreading this conversation ever since the waters had freed him. "All the things that were said, and done, upon my return." 

"The kiss?" Arthur says bluntly. The king has never been avoidant with his words. 

Merlin nods, swallowing. "Yes. That." 

Arthur heaves a sigh and makes his way over to where Merlin stands. "I don't regret anything, Merlin, I don't." He smooths Merlin's unruly hair. "Do you?"

"No, sire." Merlin says, shaking his head and glancing downwards. His scalp tingles where Arthur's fingers run against it, combing out tangles. 

He lowers his hand to Merlin's neck, the pale expanse of skin there and drums his fingertips along the pulse. "Then stop doing that."

"What?" Merlin says defensively. 

" _That._ Stop behaving like a servant." Arthur looks to everything that was set out so perfectly. The last time it was done in such a way was before Camlann—

What had he said again? _All those jokes about you being a coward. I never really meant any of them. I always thought you were the bravest man I'd ever met. Guess I was wrong._

And then the sword, the blood, how Merlin had jumped in front of him—

"Arthur?" Merlin says, cutting into his thoughts. "Are you alright? You look like you're going to fall over." 

Arthur swallows with great difficulty, mouth dry. He reaches out to Merlin and Merlin immediately comes towards him. The king wraps his arms around him, needing comfort that he was here, alive, and with him once again. "I can't bare to lose you again."

Merlin makes a small noise in the back of his throat. "Arthur, are you sure about this? I just... am uncertain you'd feel this way. About me." Merlin swallows, scratching his ear as he looks away. Arthur watches him carefully, studying the shifts in the expressions in his features as he takes this in. "I'm not saying I don't want this, I do. I swear it, I want this more than I can express... but what if, one day, you decide that you've had enough of me?" Merlin asks. "I know you, Arthur. It's bound to happen. You've..." _You've been unkind to me for so long, how do I know this change isn't temporary?_ Merlin doesn't say this out loud but he wishes he could. Arthur seems to hear it all the same. He reaches up to brush his fingers against Merlin's cheek, against the unfairly high cheekbones carved perfectly on his face, and Merlin is taken aback by this ridiculously tender gesture. 

"I've learned so much about you, but it doesn't seem to be enough. I went half mad without you by my side, and I realized... how horrible I've been to you all this time. It was one of my greatest regrets, knowing that I could've been better, that after all this time I've loved you and I never even... appreciated you properly." Arthur pauses in his speech, looks into the blue of Merlin's shiny eyes. "I love you, Merlin, and I will always, always love you." 

Merlin swallows back the swell of emotion, clearing his throat as he basks in the words Arthur's flooded him with. "You're a right prat, you know that?" Merlin croaks. "Saying stuff like that." Arthur chokes out a laugh. "I didn't know your vocabulary was so vast." 

"Clotpole," Arthur says, shaking his head, but he's unable to be truly annoyed. _Besotted fool._

"My word," Merlin mutters, wiping at his eyes. 

"And it suits you perfectly." Merlin laughs, rolling his eyes. Arthur smiles fondly at him, tips his chin up and leans in to place a gentle kiss on his lips. When he pulls away, Merlin's eyes are wide with wonder. "There are a number of things that I need to ask you about. You'll tell me about all those drawings in your chambers. I never knew you were an artist!" 

"You went into my chambers?" Merlin asks incredulously, taking a step back. 

"Couldn't help it," the king admits, and Merlin is astounded at seeing the sheepish expression on his face. "I never realized you had such talents." Merlin shrugged aimlessly. _Humble prat,_ Arthur thinks to himself, entirely besotted. "But there weren't any of you." 

Merlin squints at him. "I don't have a mirror in my room, Arthur, and why would I want to draw myself? You've repeatedly stated how ugly I am—"

"I lied. You are... beautiful." 

When Merlin's ears turn red, Arthur smiles like an idiot hopelessly in love. 

— — — —

Arthur convinces Merlin to spend the night in his chambers. While Arthur slumbers, however, Merlin is restless in the bed, the mattress too soft and the blankets difficult to move in. Still, he is anxious, thinking of all the threats that they had faced before. How to him, Arthur's still in danger, his one secret has been revealed what feels like yesterday, and Morgana is dead. It's all too much for him to comprehend.

He swings his legs off of the bed, padding across the floor to the washroom. He's scrubbing his face with water from the basin when he hears shouting. 

"Merlin! Merlin? Merlin—"

His blood runs cold, thinking of the worst possible scenario, ready to strike the attacker. Magic pulses in his veins as quick as the adrenaline does. He tears into the bedroom to find Arthur trembling on the bed, clutching at the sheets, sat up right and shiny with sweat. There is nothing near him, however, and Merlin looks around in confusion but rushes to his side immediately. "What's wrong? Are you alright? What happened—"

"Come here," Arthur says hoarsely, tugging Merlin into his arms. Merlin goes flailing forwards, tumbling into Arthur's chest as the king wraps his arms around him. Merlin feels his heart beat frantically against where his chest lays pressed against it, and pulls away briefly to look at Arthur's face. Before he can ask, Arthur says, "Had a bad dream. I thought you were... that you were—"

He struggles with the words, breaths coming out in pants. Merlin strokes back the blond hair soothingly. "It's alright, I'm here, I just had to go to the washroom," he says gently, and Arthur's grip on him tightens, clinging onto him. Merlin sighs against Arthur's chest, wrapping his arms around his back. Arthur rests his chin on Merlin's shoulder. "I'm here," he murmurs. "Always, my lord."

— — — —

The dreams are less frequent now, and Arthur relaxes more, finally able to let Merlin out of his sight without panicking over his loss.

It takes time for Merlin to adjust, as expected. The shock of the times, wrapping his mind around all the things that have passed since his, well, passing. He has dreams now, will mutter to himself in his sleep that keeps Arthur up at night. The king never complains, however, and holds him the entire night. 

Arthur's giddiness resembles a child's when he shows Merlin all that's improved, all that Arthur has done to honour him. Merlin is slightly exasperated, but proud nonetheless. He's in awe at seeing all of the magic that's alive in Albion, no longer hidden like a secret or something deadly. 

Gwaine, Percival, Leon, Arthur, and Gwen are sitting in the meadow by the riverside one day, having a celebratory picnic away from the castle to enjoy some peace. Merlin has a faraway look in his eyes, fixated on nothing in particular. Finally, Gwaine breaks the quiet. 

"What does it feel like, Merlin?" he asks, unprompted. 

"Hm?" Merlin says, turning his attention to Gwaine. 

"For magic to be celebrated," he says. Everyone goes silent at this, feeling awkward. Is it a sensitive topic? What will Merlin say?

"It's like... it's like taking shackles off," he murmurs wistfully. "It feels like swimming without an anchor chained to your ankles. It feels like I can finally breathe." They all stare at him with a sympathy that doesn't quite go as deep as they want it to. Arthur looks at Merlin's profile with sadness in his eyes, knowing that he was partly to blame for Merlin's fate. The topic changes, though, because Merlin can see the guilt in Arthur's expression. 

Arthur brings it up that evening when they're alone. 

"It's not your fault," Merlin says flatly. They're sitting beside each other on Arthur's bed. Merlin's never sat there before, not while Arthur was awake or even in the room. Sometimes, he'd fold the king's clothes there, but never when he was watching. It's strange, this new dynamic between them, but it's still them nonetheless. 

"Tell me everything, won't you?" the king asks. "All that you've done for me. I've picked things up over the years but... I'd like to hear it from you." Merlin frowns, clearly uncertain. There's too much to say, and he doesn't want to spring it all on Arthur. To make him feel guiltier than he already is. But Arthur takes Merlin's hands, and the warlock looks at where they're touching. "Please." 

He could never resist Arthur saying please.

— — — — 

It takes them the whole night. They go from sitting on the bed, to the table over dinner, to the wash room, too restless when the memories of the past are stirred up. Now, they sit in front of the fire, watching as the flames dance. Arthur thinks they're still not nearly as gold as Merlin's eyes. 

He has Merlin stop when he's talking about the Questing Beast, how he was so willing to sacrifice his life for him. He recalls the conversation they had that night, how strange Merlin's words were to him. He'd spoken with such emotion, something hidden, in pain and fear but obscuring it from view.

It makes Arthur uneasy. It makes Arthur sick, thinking of the gangly teenager he'd met in Camelot, how young he'd been. He thinks of how he was ready to throw the rest of his life away for him, never having earned such loyalty. 

He captures Merlin's lips in a kiss, desperate to feel the connection, innocent and pure and gentle. "You nearly died," Arthur says against his mouth. He feels it quirk up slightly. 

"I already have." Arthur tenses at this, the hand on Merlin's arm gripping tighter. Merlin senses the shift in the mood. "Sorry. A bit soon." Arthur exhales sharply with disbelief, shaking his head with a surprised laugh. Merlin sits and lies back, resting his head on Arthur's legs. Arthur runs his fingers through the dark curls, feeling a comfort at being able to finally do so. "It's so strange, you being... like this." 

"You said something similar to that, before," Arthur says, his voice hoarse. "It's all I thought about for so long. How in your last few conversations you had with me, you were surprised that I was showing you kindness." Arthur's gaze drops with guilt and shame. "I wish I'd done things differently." Arthur sighs, disappointed in himself as a person, as a friend. The sound of Merlin clearing his throat pulls him out of his sorrow, but he looks at the expression on his face and realizes Merlin's hiding something. His eyes are squeezed shut, as if trying to block out a memory. Arthur rests his hand on Merlin's chest and feels the thrum of his heartbeat against his palm. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Merlin says, just too quick to be subtle. Arthur picks up on this immediately, but before he can say anything, Merlin continues, "Do you want to go to the meadow today? Or perhaps the river? The weather is nice, we could go for a swim—"

"Merlin," Arthur says sternly. "What is it?"

"Arthur, please—"

"Don't even _think_ about lying to me," Arthur says, and Merlin flinches at this. Too late, Arthur realizes why, thinking of how he'd said, _You've lied to me all this time,_ even when Merlin was fighting to survive—

He desperately wishes to forget how he'd behaved. "Please, just... please tell me what's bothering you." 

Merlin's reluctance crumbles at the plea, surprised to hear it so often more than anything. "How often did you think about replacing me? Before?"

Arthur's expression sours and he looks down at Merlin, hand paused in his hair. "Where is this coming from?"

Merlin takes a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you... do you remember Cedric?" he asks quietly. Arthur scrunches his eyebrows trying to attach the name to a face, and eventually places it. 

“I do… vaguely. He was that one thief who tried to steal my keys to the vaults for all that gold, right?”

Merlin doesn't open his eyes, but nods. "Yes, but also... there was that spirit that was inside him. Cornelius Sigan? I… I defeated him. I defeated them both.”

“Amazing,” Arthur murmurs with quiet awe. “All the things you did while I was unconscious…”

“I almost didn’t, though,” Merlin continues. “I almost… he almost convinced me to join him.” Arthur frowns, just as Merlin knew he would. He licks his lips and taps his fingers against his stomach where they lay. 

Arthur asks the next question carefully, phrasing it as gently as he can while trying to coax an honest answer out of him. “What did he say to try and convince you?”

Merlin takes a deep, shuddering breath. "He'd been watching both of us during that time. How you were treating me, and he used it to try and convince me that together, he and I could rule over everything. Over the people of Camelot, over kings." _Over you._ "He said you treated me like a slave, and that that wouldn't have to be true anymore. And it was— tempting, I have to admit. He knew, having been in such close proximity of being a servant, just how convincing his words were." Merlin pauses and swallows. He's afraid to open his eyes to see how Arthur will react, but he continues. "But I told him that... it'd be better to serve a good man than rule with an evil one." Merlin finishes his story with difficulty, as though the words pain him. In a way, they do. He scolds himself for the pity. "I ought to be grateful, anyways," Merlin adds quickly. He opens his eyes to see Arthur's expression set as though carved in stone, difficult to read and stormy. "I did end up getting to serve a great king." Merlin eyes him warily, waiting for a response having yet to receive one. "Arthur?" he says softly, sitting up. He realizes Arthur's eyes are shiny with tears. 

"How could I have treated you like that?" Arthur says softly, to himself. But Merlin hears it and grabs Arthur's arm. 

"Hey—"

"No, Merlin. There's no excuse for what I've done to you, what I've said." He turns to Merlin with overflowing sorrow. "I'll be better. I swear it to you. I'm sorry." Arthur clutches Merlin's hands in his, desperate and guilty, heart heavy with regret. Merlin's eyes are burning with moisture. "I love you, and I'm sorry."

Arthur drowns in his guilt as Merlin lies by his side that night. 

— — — —

It's easier, now, things between them. Arthur tries to repent for all his wrongdoings when he finds out all that Merlin has sacrificed. He bestows gifts upon Merlin, little things Merlin doesn't become wary of. He's ever so sweet and endearing, and Merlin's surprised by how the two can have both the banter and moments of raw intimacy. 

He and Merlin have dinner every night together, talking easily as they had always done, except now they share the same bed afterwards. But the realizations of their past are vibrant flashes in his mind at the most unsuspecting times of day. He thinks of Freya when he and Merlin are eating dinner together, or Balinor when he's training the knights, something triggering Merlin's words and Arthur sees his tears over his first love and his father. Merlin sees the guilt in his king, but can only offer words of comfort when they're lying beside each other, or when they're on a hunt, or even when Merlin's fixing poultices for people in the lower town.

Leon and Arthur arrange a meeting with Gwen and the knights. Arthur tells them of all that Merlin has done, and they're teary-eyed and proud. Arthur proposes them an idea, and they all light up in agreement. They work to gather the respective monarchs that rule over Albion with Arthur, and eventually, the day is set where all of them will arrive. 

The night before, Merlin's fussing over Arthur's clothes, and no matter how many times Arthur tells him that he does not have to do the washing, Merlin insists on it. "You can't get rid of me that easily," he says every time.

"I ought to make you a nobleman, then you'd get your own servant," Arthur says, and Merlin's head snaps up so fast Arthur's afraid his neck will snap. 

"I'll challenge you in a duel if you do," Merlin says, with complete seriousness that sends Arthur laughing to himself. "Honestly, royals and their incompetence to do anything for themselves—"

Arthur cuts him off with a kiss and Merlin blanches at the sudden affection. "You were saying?"

"I. Clothes. Folding," he stammers, blinking, but his eyes are twinkling. "Everything has to be ready for tomorrow." Arthur smiles smugly, until he sees Merlin's eyes linger on the little dragon statuette on Arthur's desk. "Is there any reason why you chose tomorrow to be the feast? You'll be busy all day," Merlin says, trying to feign innocent curiosity, but it's difficult. 

Arthur knows what he's trying to get at, proud that he was able to catch the question underneath. "No, none at all," he says, convincing enough. Merlin nods, looking slightly... hurt. Arthur feels a pang of guilt but knows it'll be worth it tomorrow. "Why, is tomorrow cause for celebration?" Merlin shakes his head, scratching at his ear. 

"No, I just... no, it's not," Merlin finishes. His eyes flicker away from Arthur's. "Mother's coming tomorrow to visit." Arthur knows this, of course. He'd sent her a letter last month, and then another a week ago just to make sure she hadn't forgotten. Hunith, of course, hadn't, but was touched that Arthur cared so much. 

"Is she? That's nice," Arthur says casually, settling into the bed. "It's a long trip from Ealdor." 

"It is," Merlin agrees. "She said she was coming for—" Arthur looks up at Merlin expectantly, but Merlin segways immediately, not wanting Arthur to feel guilty. "She wanted to be here for a bit." Arthur hums, trying to hide his smile. He extends his hand for Merlin to take, and he does, although looking a bit disappointed. "I think I'll be busy with her, if that's alright. While you're in meetings." Arthur hums again, arranging Merlin's limbs so they're comfortable in the bed, pulling the warlock into his side to brush at his dark hair, tugging the blanket over them and sighing. Merlin is thinking, scolding himself for feeling disappointed. _He's never asked you of the date of your birth before. Why should you expect him to know?_ Merlin tries not to consider it for too long. 

Arthur waits until Merlin falls asleep, until his breathing evens out and his expression is relaxed. _He's so beautiful,_ Arthur thinks to himself. _How had I not seen it before?_

He presses a kiss to Merlin's forehead, who stirs a bit at the touch but doesn't wake. Arthur carefully gets out of the bed to go and prepare everything for the following day. 

— — — —

The bed is empty when Merlin wakes. He blinks his eyes open blearily, rubbing at them as he looks to the space where Arthur usually lays. He feels his heart sink, and he climbs out of the bed to get dressed. 

Once he's changed, Merlin goes to Gaius' chambers. His mother is sitting across from the old physician and they're having light conversation when Merlin walks in. Hunith's face lights up in an immediate smile. "Merlin!" she says, standing to envelope him in a hug. He holds her tightly. "How have you been since my last visit?"

"I'm well, Mother," he says, smiling. Hunith goes to the table and hands him a gift. Merlin looks down at it, than raises his eyes up to her. "Mother—"

"Happy birthday, my son," she says proudly, cutting him off before he can protest. Merlin unwraps the gift. Inside are tools for carving wood, brand new and pristine. Merlin gapes at the utensils. 

"This must have cost—"

"Hush," Hunith chides, swatting at Merlin's arm. Her eyes are twinkling, hiding something. Merlin squints at her, but relents. 

"Thank you, Mother," he says breathlessly. "I love it.' 

Gaius gives him a gift next, a medicine bag of his own. It's beautiful and carefully made, and the mentor looks at him fondly. "You're a skilled physician, Merlin. I'm privileged to have taught you." He pats Merlin on the back before going to tend to the poultices. 

Merlin takes Hunith to walk around Camelot. The streets are alive and buzzing with activity, excitement over whatever the king has planned for the festivities. Merlin, oblivious as always, pays no attention to this. Hunith is exasperated by her son's ignorance, but she's glad that hiding the plan from him is so easy. She does feel guilty, though, when she finds that Merlin thinks he has been neglected by his king. "Surely, he hasn't forgotten," Hunith says. 

"Oh, he never knew it, anyways," Merlin says with a shrug. Hunith frowns, despite knowing for a fact that Arthur knows. "He's busy, anyways."

Hunith sighs. "He loves you, Merlin. I'm certain of it. You will be too. You'll see, in time." Her son shrugs again, half-heartedly. She decides to drop the subject and turns to the banners. "Ooh, show me these little things. I didn't know they died fabric with such colours!" 

— — — —

When they returned from the markets, Merlin goes to his chambers and drops his gifts on the desk. The knights and Gwen had located him in the lower town as Hunith and him meandered about, bestowing numerous presents for his birthday. He was flushed and embarrassed, but his mother was friendly and the knights were all so kind to her. 

His eyes land on clothes folded neatly on his bed. He squints at it, then sees the note set atop them. He recognizes the handwriting, neater than his own. "Join us at the throne room at sundown. Wear these." He sets the note aside to lift the clothes set out for him and frowns at the niceness of the quality, how surely they would be made for nobles. He runs his fingers over the coat, so like the clothes he wore to Gwen and Arthur's wedding so long ago. This time, however, the very feel is new, smooth and soft and elegant, midnight blue. Merlin considers why Arthur would bother getting something such as clothes for him, but smiles idly as he goes to wash up. 

Afterwards, he dresses into the clothes. Arthur had gotten him a mirror the last time he'd mentioned he didn't have one, and while he adamantly refused a different one would be found the next day, already hanging against the wall. 

Allowing himself one moment of admiration, he smiles briefly at the reflection, surprised by how well everything fits, how for once in his life he can possibly pass as someone who isn't from Ealdor but maybe of a higher rank. He sighs, turning away, jogging down the steps to Gaius' chambers and away from his own. 

"Merlin!" his mother cries, her eyes teary at the sight of him. "You look positively dashing." She reaches to straighten his hair, but he immediately musses it, laughing. Merlin looks at her own attire, and realizes she, too, is wearing a dress that would be fit for a noblewoman. Hunith sees how Merlin regards it and says, "Arthur left it for me, it was here on the table. Gaius is at the feast at this very moment." Merlin nods, pondering. "Shall we go?" 

Merlin's face breaks out into a grin and he offers his mother his arm. She rolls her eyes at the ridiculously posh gesture, but takes it and they leave the physician's chambers behind in their wake. 

— — — — 

The knights approach them first as they make their way down the corridor.

"Lady Hunith, would you mind having us escort you this way?" Gwaine asks, offering his hand to Hunith. She takes it, and gives Merlin a smile, the same one she had given him before. Secret, and knowing, and proud. "You stay here, Merlin. You'll know when to walk in." Percival smacks Gwaine on the shoulder before they lead Hunith into the adjacent entrance to take a seat at the table. 

The doors open to the throne room precisely at sundown and Merlin's startled by the suddenness. He's shocked to find that rather than a meeting at the round table, it is what seems to be a coronation. Arthur stands on the opposite of the room, smiling brightly. His hand is extended, reaching out to Merlin. "Please welcome Merlin of Ealdor," he says, eyes twinkling. Merlin cautiously enters the dining hall, seeing Gaius and his mother as he passes. Arthur beckons him to come and stand with him. He crosses the room and stands behind Arthur, but the king brings Merlin to stand beside him. As equals. 

"As you may know, I have gathered you all here today to celebrate the return of magic to Albion and the unification of the five kingdoms. All this good fortune and prosperity has not been because of me, but from this man here," Arthur says to the listening audience. Merlin is dumbstruck. "And so, I have called you on this day, the date of his birth, to celebrate him and his accomplishments and sacrifices he has made for everyone who sits here today." Hunith and Gaius share a look, tearful and proud and fond. Merlin swallows as Arthur continues. "Merlin, come with me, please." Arthur offers his arm and brings Merlin to the pedestal, directly in front of his throne. Merlin follows him in a trance. "If you would kneel, please," Arthur says gently. Merlin does so without question, dazed. Arthur brings out his sword, _Excalibur._ "I, Arthur Pendragon and King of Camelot, grant Merlin of Ealdor the title of Sorcerer to the Court of Camelot." Merlin's breath hitches and he looks up at Arthur with awe. "You may rise." It feels as though Merlin is unable to do so, and Arthur chuckles as he lifts Merlin to standing. 

The words feel like _Finally_ as Arthur pulls Merlin into a kiss, unbidden, bold, and tender. Immediately afterwards, he pulls Merlin into an embrace. There is cheering, chanting, celebration. Merlin feels as though he's floating. 

— — — —

Afterwards, they go into the dining hall where a great feast has been laid out, and Merlin sits by Arthur's side. The king slides a cake with a candle in it over to Merlin. It's slightly lopsided and the colour looks a bit... unappetizing, but Merlin is touched regardless. "Made it myself," Arthur says proudly. "Your favourite. Didn't think I forgot about your birthday, did you?" Arthur says, smiling stupidly. 

"I didn't even know you knew my birthday," Merlin remarks. Arthur looks offended, so he adds playfully, "Prat." 

"Dollophead," Arthur retorts instantaneously. 

"My word, you clotpole," Merlin huffs, glaring at him. The people around them are enjoying their meal, eating heartily and talking loudly as they enjoy the food. 

Arthur nuzzles Merlin's shoulder. "You love me," he says, with a teasing smile. 

"I love you," Merlin echoes. Arthur makes a small noise at the back of his throat, and Merlin grins at him. 

"I love you, _Court Sorcerer._ Now make a wish," Arthur says softly. 

He laces his hands with Merlin's upon the table as Merlin thinks. _Destiny has been fulfilled, and I am by his hide. What more can I wish for?_

He blows out the tiny flame. Arthur presses a kiss to his temple and his eyes flash with gold. Above them, sparks take the form of a dragon and it flies away. Like him, it is finally, _finally_ free.


End file.
